Warm Fuzzies

Blogged last night, stayed up too late reading, turned out my light and God said, "Boo!"
Instant download.

Romance.

You're going to keep reading, aren't you? ☺

The download was in question form: why do we think we don't have to work at romance?

If we're of any age in this world we've learned we have to work at loving people. Sometimes it's tough love, sometimes it's sacrificial love, sometimes its I'm-going-to-spank-you-now-so-you-don't-steal-a-car-later love, sometimes it's I'm-going-to-show-you-love-even-though-I-want-to-claw-your-eyes-out love, sometimes it's simple charity, sometimes it's simple courtesy. But we have to think about it, be intentional, be dialed in, being always obedient to the Author and Perfecter of Love.

And then we get to Eros and chuck it. We think it's simply serendipity! That it just happens! Hitch could tell you romance never just "happens," and yet we persist in spending a good chunk of our lives hunting the Snipe of Serendipity and getting frustrated when it proves elusive. Shoot, even Song of Solomon is all about seeking the beloved, chasing, pursuing, all that good stuff.

A friend once told me that Romance is the feeling you got when you know you're special to someone. In one of my favorite books, Indigo tries to decode Special. Turns out it's different for each person, so he learns Special According to Sarah. It involves total intentionality on his part, a thing with which we modern girls seems to have a love/hate relationship. Our culture has taught us to suspect all forms of planning and "plotting" as subtle forms of manipulation-- expressions of romance should fly spontaneously from a "heart full of love," right? This not only discounts the basic differences between the sexes (like, male synapses process complex relationships at a totally different rate than female synapses, and guys like to have a plan-- as my sister said, "So he plans to stop and get you flowers instead of seeing the store on the way-- big deal! You still get flowers!" Thank you, Maggie), it flies in the face of reality. Reality is God did not wake up one day and decided to lavish love on us in the form of Jesus saving us from our sins. He planned that. Like, before recorded history began.

C.S. Lewis wrote a brilliant book on four different kinds of love. The chapter on Eros will curl your hair, make you laugh, and make you think. I need to read it again. Because now I will read it with a different paradigm: if I'm married and not experiencing romance, or even engaged and not experiencing romance, perhaps the problem is not with the Beloved. Perhaps the truth is Romance is work. Just like everything else. And it will not wither on the vine for the fact that we have to figure out what Special is. Does that not actually increase the romance? That someone would expend the energy, risk being wrong, risk looking foolish, risk even displeasure at a failure-- whether in bed or on a date or doing dishes?

It may be counter-intuitive at first because we are so used to bumping into warm fuzzies unexpectedly (and therefore value them for their rarity), but try killing the lie that you have to find the hot-flashes of Romance.

You make them.